


Picture This

by phoenixflight



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exhibitionism, First Time, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Model AU, Pictures, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 20:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: It starts out like any other photoshoot they’ve done.





	Picture This

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jesi for beta'ing this for me!  
> This... doesn't even fill anything for kink bingo. It's just indulgent smut.

It starts out like any other photoshoot they’ve done, in a small studio with light umbrellas casting a soft even glow over the faux-brick backdrop and the sleek couch on set. Auguste and Laurent have been doing this for ages, since Laurent was a kid. Their matching appearance and fair good looks have made them moderately famous in the world of modeling, but they like doing artistic shoots like this one better than the mainstream schtick. 

The photographer is an energetic man with a neat goatee named Lazar. Their manager, Makedon, had said, “He makes good art out of advertising.” 

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the set up. They were both dressed in the style Auguste thought of as Hamptons casual - crisp button downs and $300 jeans. Underneath, both were wearing name-brand briefs, which was the whole point of the shoot, but Lazar had a process apparently. 

They do a few shots lounging against the brick wall, and then move to the couch. Lazar is a wiry shape behind the camera. “Get closer together. Yeah, like that.” They shuffle toward each other, Laurent's knees between Auguste's. “Arch your back, Laurent. Auguste, put your upstage hand on his waist. A little higher. There."

Auguste is fighting to keep his breath even, touching his brother like this - a painfully teasing parody of intimacy. Photographers like to pose them close together, monetizing the edge of taboo and eroticism from their resemblance and age difference. Being used to it doesn’t make it any easier to be so close to something that Auguste has wanted for so long. Too long. 

Laurent's chest is close to his, rising and falling. It's not real, he reminds himself. It's all just show business. 

"Tug Laurent's shirt out of his pants," Lazar orders, and Auguste does, feeling the warm skin of Laurent's waist under his finger tips.

"Run your hand up his back, pulling the shirt up with you. Spread your knees a little more."

Auguste slouches down, and slides his hand up Laurent's spine, and Laurent shivers under his touch.

“That's good," Lazar says. "Now his buttons. Undo the shirt." Auguste can feel his trousers getting tight as he works on Laurent's buttons one handed, the other still flat on his back. He's rubbing a little with his thumb, soothing. Laurent is pink and flushed under the hot lights. "Turn him toward the camera," Lazar says, and Auguste turns them both a little, using his leg to nudge Laurent to the side, against the back of the couch.

In profile, Laurent's erection is obvious to the camera, pressing against the front of his jeans.

"Put your nose under his chin," Lazar orders.

Auguste nuzzles against Laurent's neck, where his heartbeat is pounding. He smells like soap and himself, a smell Auguste remembers from their childhood, of carrying his little brother around when he was still small enough to lift up. of Laurent crawling into his bed after a nightmare, and the smell of his brother on the pillow tangled with his heated teenage dreams.

Laurent's fingers are tight on his arms, creasing the fine linen of his shirt, digging into his biceps. He's panting, cock straining at his jeans. He tilts his head back as his brother noses at the sensitive skin under his jaw, and Auguste hears him take a shaky breath.

He's just a teenager, of course he's getting worked up. It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean he wants what Auguste wants. At that age, anything will make you hard. Auguste is clinging to these thoughts with his lips against his brother's throat.

Then Laurent lifts his hand and tangles it in Auguste's hair. Auguste can't help gasping a little, breath puffing warm and damp against Laurent's neck.

"Good, that's great," Lazar says. "Pull it a little, Laurent."

The sharp edge of pain as Laurent tugs on his hair sends a shudder through Auguste, and he swallows back the sound he wants to make.

"Auguste, I want you to lie back and pull him with you." They can hear the rapid click of the camera shutter.

Auguste feels a bubble of something like panic under his ribs, hot and tangled with arousal. Lying back will pull Laurent on top of him, into his lap. He should stop this, before they go any further. 

And then Laurent makes an urgent whine in his throat and tugs at Auguste's hair again and Auguste tightens his arm around his brother and hauls him over, onto him as he lies back on the couch.

Laurent is hot and heavy on top of him, squirming, and  _ oh fuck _ that's his brother's cock hard against his thigh. Auguste wants to rut up against him, get some relief for his own aching hard-on, but he forces himself still.  

One of Laurent's hands is still cupped around the back of his neck, and now Laurent is above him, looking down at him from inches away like a lover. Their eyes meet. 

A blaze of heat runs through Auguste, shocking. There's no hiding from who it is on top of him, no denying that it's his baby brother that he's so hot for. And Laurent is looking right back at him, without a shred of uncertainty in his gaze.

"Alright," comes Lazars voice, breaking the moment. "You're obscuring the shot a little. Laurent, roll told the back of the couch and tip your hips toward me."

Laurent shifts, and the heavy heat of his brother's erection is gone. Auguste has never had a problem sharing his own body with the cameras but he feels a shock of jealous anger at the thought of Laurent displaying himself like this for anyone to see. He breathes deeply to calm himself.

“That's great," Lazar continues, still in the same enthusiastic professional tone - the voice of a photographer who knows he's capturing great content. "Alright, is this an underwear ad or not? Auguste, undo his jeans. Slowly."

Auguste lifts his hand, and hesitates. his brother's dick is pressed hard against the fly of his jeans. To unbutton him, he's going to have to touch him. His own cock throbs at that thought, but there is a sick knot of guilt and uncertainty in his throat. He looks up at Laurent, and finds his brother looking back, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Auguste can barely breathe with how beautiful he is, how much he wants him. But he  _ can't _ hurt Laurent. 

He swallows, hearing his throat click, dry. "Is this..." he whispers. "Laurent... is this... can I...?"

Laurent reaches out and catches his hand, tangling his fingers with Auguste's, and drags it to press against his crotch. They both breathe out together.

Auguste popped the button on Laurent's straining jeans and dragged the zipper down. Underneath, his designer briefs are soaked around the head of his cock, white cotton translucent, showing the pink, flushed head and leaking slit clearly through the fabric. Auguste's mouth waters with how much he wants to taste him.

"Ok, Laurent, I want you up on your hands and knees. Get your leg between your dick and the camera, this is a tease, not a porno. Auguste, pull his jeans off."

Laurent flushes but rolls obediently onto all fours, ass in the air, his upstage thigh hiding his erection from the camera, but not Auguste, who stares at it as he drags his brother's jeans down. Lazar is moving, camera clicking, capturing different angles of Laurent's perfect, round ass in his tight, brand-name briefs.

With his jeans discarded on the floor, Laurent kneels over his brother, dick stretching his briefs obscenely. Auguste, fully dressed, is painfully hard, balls aching. He wants to pull his brother down against him, feel his wet cock against his stomach, get them both off humping through their clothes. Helplessly, he drags a hand down Laurent's chest, feeling the lean muscle and smooth skin under his palm. His thumb catches one of Laurent's nipples through his shirt, and Laurent throws his head back, mouth open on a silent moan.

Auguste feels his own dick throb, leaking in his pants.

"Alright, alright," Lazar says. "Let's not get too distracted. I like the couch but I want some variety. Up, both of you."

It takes Auguste a minute to process the instruction, and when he does part of him wanted to throw something at Lazar. But the pretense of professionalism is the only thing between him and Laurent and something far too true. So after a long moment, he hauls himself upright with a groan. Laurent sits back too, rubbing his eyes and glaring at Lazar. 

"Don't smear your makeup," Lazar scolds.

He directs them to lean against the wall. "Put your arms around his neck," he says to Laurent. Laurent stretches up to wrap his arms over his brother's shoulders, bare torso pressing against his chest, erection nudging against Auguste's thigh. 

Auguste breathes out shakily and lets his hands rest on Laurent's waist, tipping his head down against his brother's hair, and breathing in the scent of his shampoo and stage makeup. His cock is pressed against Laurent's stomach. he can feel the warmth of his body even through his jeans.

The studio lights are hot, beating down on them, blinding. Auguste holds his brother tight.

"Laurent, undo Auguste's shirt."

Laurent stirs against his chest, and he feels his brother's hands in the close space between them.

"Toward the camera," Lazar adds. "A little more space." There's a scraping sound as Lazar drags one of the light umbrellas a little to one side, illumination moving in warm highlights over Laurent's golden hair and creamy skin.

Laurent gets Auguste's shirt undone, and slides it off his shoulders. He drags his hands down his brother's chest to the waistband of his jeans, and Auguste shudders.

"Slowly," Lazar says. "Laurent, push down his jeans so we can see the waistband, but don't unbutton them."

The feeling of Laurent tugging at his belt loops hits Auguste in the gut. it's such a tiny, intimate gesture, smaller than the rest of this performance. It feels like something just between them. Laurent's forehead is pressed against his sternum, breath warm on his bare skin. Auguste's nipples are tight and sensitive.

"Ok Laurent, that's good. Now get your upstage thigh between his legs, nice and close. I want to see the contrast against the denim."

Auguste's breath hitches as Laurent straddles his thigh, pressing his cock firmly against Auguste's hip. Laurent rocks a little, on the pretext of finding his balance, and smirks when Auguste shivers.

Auguste digs his fingers into Laurent's side, where he's holding him. The bulge in his own jeans is obvious to the camera, framed by Laurent's thigh between his legs, and the curve of his ass in his briefs. The part of Auguste's brain that is still working on a business level realizes that this shot is pure gold. Another part of him is terrified at showing the world this.

"Great, that's great," Lazar is muttering, camera clicking wildly. He sounds a little distracted.

"Laurent, I want you to get on your knees to undo Auguste's pants."

Laurent sinks to his knees, and Auguste feels like his ribs are trying to squeeze his heart right out of his chest when Laurent looks up at him. His brother's face is obscene, cheeks flushed even under his foundation, lips bitten and red, eyes dilated. Auguste's cock is throbbing painfully. He wants his brother's mouth on him more than he can remember wanting anything, and that knowledge burns inside him like a brand.

Laurent reaches for the zipper of his jeans, and Auguste's dick twitches under his touch, eager. They hold one another's gaze as Laurent tugs his jeans down his thighs, revealing his own damp briefs, stretched out and wet over his cock. There's no way these photos are ever going to make it into a magazine, at least not as advertising, but none of them are pretending anymore.

Laurent drops his gaze to his brother's dick and licks his lips, just a little flicker of tongue, like he couldn't help it. Auguste groans and his cock pulses out more precome, soaking through the fabric at his slit.

"Ok, that's good." Lazar's voice sounds shaky. "Now both of you up, facing the wall side by side. I want a couple of ass shots."

Laurent is unsteady on his feet as he stands. Auguste is feeling a little weak in the knees himself. He offers Laurent a hand, and feels his brother's fingers close around his own and squeeze.

They both face the faux brick wall, lights hot on their backs. "Great, arms around each other's shoulders," Lazar says. "Good, good. Nice and casual." 

Auguste swallows a hysterical laugh, but he knows the industry. Men's underwear advertising is all about the plausible deniability of homoeroticism. He slings an arm around Laurent's shoulders like he would walking down the street. Affectionate. Brotherly. 

His cock is aching.

"Perfect, perfect. Now bring that hand down, the small of his back, yes. Laurent I want you holding onto his shoulder." Auguste feels Laurent's warm palm at the base of his neck, pressing pleasantly into the taut muscle there. “Great, that's good balance." Auguste lets himself relax into the familiar pose. "Ok, alright," Lazar continues. "Now Auguste, put your hand on your brother's ass."

A hot and cold flash goes through Auguste's body, and it's like the whole world stops for an instant with a sickening jolt. Hearing it said like that, out loud, makes his stomach knot with arousal and guilt together. His heart thunders in his ears and he can feel his cock leaking into his briefs even as his throat tightens horribly.

Beside him, Auguste feels Laurent turn his head, but he can't look at him. Laurent has always been the brave one, the one who doesn't care what the world thinks of him. But it's not Laurent's job to be the adult. The responsible one. The good big brother.

"Auguste," Laurent whispers, so low that Lazar surely can't hear him - so that Auguste can barely hear him over the pounding of his heart. "Do it. Please."

_ Please.  _

Laurent's fingers curl into his neck, grounding him, and Auguste slides his hand down Laurent's back - his  _ brother's _ back - to the perfect curve of his ass.

Laurent sighs, and pushes back into his hand, and Auguste lets his shame and fear go, like feathers in the wind. He squeezes his brother's ass, kneading the soft muscle through the cotton, listening to Laurent making small, encouraging noises in his throat. He wants his hands on bare skin, wants to kneel down and spread Laurent's cheeks, bury his face between him and lick him out till he screams.

“Ok, this is all great,” Lazar says, and Auguste wants to strangle him. “Just a few more. Back on the couch, both of you.  Laurent, I want you in your brother's lap, facing the camera."

They sit back on the couch, Laurent's ass pressed against Auguste's cock, nestled in his crack, tantalizing through their underwear. His knees are spread open over Auguste's thighs, the bright lights catching the slick shine of his wet briefs, showing the pink flush of his cock through the fabric, obscene.

Lazar picks up one of their crumpled button down shirts from the floor and tosses it to them. "Here, hold that over his dick."

Auguste fists the fabric and lets his hand rest against the inside of Laurent's thigh so the shirt covers his crotch, mostly, adjusting his positioning until the branding on the waistband shows.

Laurent is breathing heavily, ribcage rising and falling against his brother's chest. Auguste's cheek is pressed close to Laurent's neck, the smell of him everywhere.

"Alright, Auguste, that's perfect. just one more thing." the camera clicks. "Bite his neck for me."

Laurent shivers on Auguste's lap, arching his neck. Auguste bares his teeth playfully for the camera, and bites down on the meaty part of Laurent's shoulder at the base of his neck. Laurent is rolling his hips up subtly against the indistinct pressure of Auguste's hand. Auguste nips him again, over his pulse point, feeling Laurent tense, and then slides his lips gently over his throat, soothing him with his tongue, and presses a soft kiss in the tender spot under his ear.

Laurent arches on his lap and cries out, tremors wracking through his body. Auguste feels every inch of him convulse, ass rubbing deliciously against his cock, which throbs in sympathy.

Laurent shivers and writhes, and Auguste feels the wetness in his briefs against Auguste's wrist, hand still holding the shirt over his crotch like a superfluous fig leaf. Auguste’s pulse is rushing in his ears like water, his whole body buzzing, attuned to his brother as he shakes through his orgasm. 

Finally, Laurent slumps back against Auguste's shoulder, panting. Lazar claps his hands, once, a sharp sound that startles them both. "Alright! That's a wrap. Great job, everyone. You can head on back to the changing rooms and I'll get these shots to your agent in 3 to 5 weeks."

Dazed, Laurent and Auguste stumble back to the changing room together. Auguste has been hard so long his balls hurt, and his briefs chafe against the tender head of his cock. Laurent is barely upright, limbs loose and shaky, leaning on his brother for support.

They toppled through the door of the changing room and Auguste slams it behind them. Laurent has his arms around his neck, panting against his cheek. Blindly, Auguste presses his lips to his brother's face - his forehead, his cheekbones, his lips. Their mouths move together for the first time and it's like thunder in Auguste's bones.

He slides a hand down to cup Laurent's cock through his soaked briefs, and feels it twitch at his touch. Laurent whimpers into their kiss.

Guiding Laurent backward, Auguste walks them toward the couch and pushes Laurent down. It’s softer than the sleek couch in the studio, threadbare and comfortable. Laurent collapses onto it and looks up at his brother, knees spread, obscene.

Auguste falls to his knees between Laurent's legs and curls his fingers in the waistband of Laurent's briefs, like he's been longing to do for an hour now. Laurent lifts his hips as he yanks them down and then Auguste is staring at his little brother's dick - pink and wet, glistening all over, messy with come, not fully soft - still deliciously plump.

There's nothing stopping Auguste from doing what he's wanted to do desperately from the moment he unbuttoned Laurent's jeans, so he bends his head and licks the come off his brother's cock in a long stripe.

Laurent shouts and arches up, hands flying to Auguste's hair. Auguste purrs and keeps licking, chasing the bitter, salty taste of his brother's come. He takes the head of Laurent's cock in his mouth, spongy and velvety, and sucks gently.

Laurent writhes under his mouth, oversensitive. His hands are tugging in his hair, unclear whether he's drawing him closer or pushing him away. Auguste drops a hand to his own crotch and squeezes himself through his briefs as he sucks his brother. Laurent is moaning helplessly as he starts to get hard again, cock thickening on Auguste's tongue.

Auguste lets Laurent's wet cock slide out of his mouth, and licks down over his balls, sucking each one gently into his mouth, and rolling it on his tongue. Laurent is shivering and thrusting his hips up, cock bouncing against his stomach. 

Getting his hands under Laurent's thighs, Auguste pushes his legs up, so Laurent curls back on the couch, ass spread, pink hole exposed. Auguste licks a stripe from the base of his balls, all the way down his crack, feeling Laurent's hole clench under his tongue. Laurent cries out, whole body jerking.

Shoving his own briefs down, Auguste pulls out his cock, stroking himself for some relief as he buries his face in his brother's ass. His nose is pressed against his soft balls, full of the overwhelming, musky smell of him, ears ringing with Laurent's cries.

He can feel Laurent's thighs tensing on either side of his head, the little aborted thrusts he makes into his mouth.

Auguste works his tongue inside him and Laurent practically shouts, muffling the sound with a hand. His hole flutters around Auguste's tongue, hungry. Auguste squeezes his own cock hard and groans. He's getting close, he's not going to last long enough to fuck Laurent, not the way he wants to - taking his time and savoring every moment.

Instead he gets one of his fingers wet in his mouth, and slides it inside Laurent's ass. he can feel his own orgasm rushing up, tightening in his balls, at the hungry, silken clench of Laurent's ass around his finger. Licking at the rim, Auguste crooks his finger hard against Laurent's prostate, once, twice, and Laurent screams, his entire body shuddering and spasming.

His cock spills over his chest, and Auguste groans, working him through it, his own cock throbbing in his hand. He's close, he's so close.

Laurent collapses back on the couch, panting, and Auguste heaves himself up off the floor. he gets a knee on either side of Laurent's hips, jacking himself hard. He's going to come all over Laurent's chest, in the mess that Laurent just made, over his pink nipples and belly button. Then Laurent shifts, bringing his knees together and Auguste has another thought.

He clutches the base of his cock to keep from coming just at the idea, and lowers himself onto Laurent's lap. Laurent whimpers as Auguste rubs against his sensitive dick. Pressing his own cock into the slick space between Laurent's thighs, wet with spit and Laurent's come, Auguste thrusts between his legs, holding himself up on his elbows above his brother.

Come slides between their stomachs as he thrusts his cock between Laurent's thighs. Laurent gasps and twitches on every stroke, as Auguste's cock bumps his tender balls and rubs against his wet hole. Laurent looks fucked out, face red, mouth bitten, eyes glassy. Auguste can feel sweat running down the small of his back. He changes the angle a little so that the head of his cock presses in just a little to Laurent's hole on each stroke, dragging between his legs deliciously. Laurent is shivering, flushed all the way down his chest, nipples pink and hard and hard. 

Auguste bends his head to lick at them - takes one of Laurent’s nipples between his teeth and tugs. Laurent arches and cries out and Auguste feels his balls tighten orgasm rushing up. He pushes the head of his cock against Laurent's hole, feeling it give just a little, and Laurent whines, shivering. Auguste's whole body clenches, hot, and he presses his face against Laurent's chest as he comes with a shout. 

His cock spills all over his brother's hole, making a mess between his legs. Auguste trembles against his brother, lungs full of the smell of his sweat and his body, as he empties himself between Laurent's thighs, shuddering.

For a long moment, they lie pressed together, sticky and hot, panting. Laurent has his arms around Auguste's neck, Auguste's face is pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing. 

There's a knock at the door, and Lazar's voice calls, "By the way, I have a memo here to tell you two you can keep the briefs if you want!"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!  
> Follow me on tumblr at [ stillwaterseas](http://stillwaterseas.tumblr.com/) or at my fandom blog [seas-of-ios](https://seas-of-ios.tumblr.com/)


End file.
